


Listen to the Wind

by Lalaith_Quetzalli



Series: Time River [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Bad Alan Deaton, F/M, Families of Choice, Family, Fix-It, Friendship, M/M, Mage Stiles Stilinski, Mates, POV Third Person, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, True Alpha Derek Hale, True Love, True Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 04:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19143943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalaith_Quetzalli/pseuds/Lalaith_Quetzalli
Summary: Some things are impossible to hide: the sun, the moon, the truth. Some things never truly die: hope, faith… and love. And those are the things that will give them what they’ve always wanted, what they truly deserve.





	Listen to the Wind

**Author's Note:**

> And here we are! This is where things get the most intense. Why? Because a lot more ended happening in this particular piece than I was originally planning on. But I like how it turned out, so... yeah.
> 
> Here is where the Sterek happens! I did tell you that was coming, and here's where I deliver. A lot of feels, passion, a tiny bit of fluff and hell of a lot of angst, because what are feels and fluff without some healthy amount of angst to both balance it out and make everything all the more intense? Also, things just cannot be simple when it comes to love, ever. But it's so worth it...
> 
> I might also get a bit heavy on the world-building, but I thought it important to explain, once and for all, what Stiles and Lydia did exactly when everything began, and why. And also, you'll finally learn why Derek isn't exactly the same as them. Any questions after this is over and you may ask.
> 
> More notes at the end.

**Listen to the Wind**

Stiles starts off his day in a fairly good mood… scratch that, in an excellent mood. And why shouldn't he? Gerard Argent is dead, Chris Argent has finally got his head out of his ass and will be dealing with Allison, and Scott, himself; the pack is safe, they have their Alpha: Derek who, this time actually believes he deserves to be the Alpha (Stiles knows, instinctively, that the Acclamation wouldn't have worked otherwise) and Jackson is the first (but certainly not last) to be turned. Yes, he has more than enough reason to start his day in an excellent mood.

There is, of course, the part he will never acknowledge out-loud, in the light of the day. All the ideas that have infiltrated his head, the delicious dream that invaded his subconscious from the moment that a certain Alpha took hold of his chin softly, so very softly, and told him not to submit, that they were equals… Stiles will never acknowledge those thoughts openly, but that's okay, a boy can still dream, can he not?

Stiles is so lost in his dreams he doesn't even pay attention to the fact that his bedroom isn't quite as empty as it should be when he steps in, with nothing but a towel around his waist. He heads straight for his drawers, grabbing the first pair of boxer-briefs his fingers find and is about to drop the towel when the wordless exhalation behind him freezes him. Stiles doesn't say a word, he hardly even breathes for a moment there, one hand holding his underclothes, the other barely managing to keep the towel in place. He's trying to think of something, anything, to say, when suddenly there's a warm (hot, almost burning hot) body behind him, so close they're almost but not quite touching. The moment a nose presses to the side of his neck Stiles loses all control.

Derek has no idea what he's doing, or why he's doing it, not really. It's all just… Stiles. The boy drives him crazy at the best of times and right then! It's like there's something about him, some kind of energy, a pull, like Stiles is the sun and he has to follow the light… Peppermint, hazelnut and an undercurrent of something he couldn't quite describe, almost like the air just before a thunderstorm; Stiles's scent, like everything else, is enough to drive the wolf crazy. And then there's the rest of him, all that alabaster skin, all the moles dotting it, drawing his attention, and all that tight muscle… Stiles is tall, and always looks so lanky, clumsy, in too big shirts and plaid and loose jeans… Derek would have never imagined all that hid underneath those clothes. The skin and the muscles and such perfection… He cannot help himself, he really cannot, he just has to get closer, has to touch, has to smell…

It all happens so fast. In seconds, less than that even. One moment Derek's nose is pressed against the side of Stiles's neck, breathing in as much as he can… the next his back is against the wall just beside the closet, their bodies pressed completely, so perfectly, so deliciously… and they're kissing, or more like devouring each other. The kiss… it doesn't feel like a first kiss at all, it's all passion, and desire and so much more; and it's not even about dominance, the both of them give and take equally and it's absolutely perfect…

They only break away when oxygen becomes an absolute necessity, and the first thing to come out of their mouths in the other's name in a strangled gasp, like they just cannot help themselves.

Stiles knows they need to calm down, he knows it and yet it's so hard… so he settles for pressing his nose against Derek's collarbone, taking his scent in, his heartbeat, counting his breaths until his own fall into sync. Derek follows suit, his wolf practically purring inside. It's one sweet, perfect, moment… until there's someone knocking at the front door.

**xXx**

Jackson's thoroughly enjoying his late morning. Just laying on all those pillows and blankets, his mate on his chest, pack around him, and his alphas… somewhere in the house, close enough for him to feel safe and content. His attention is briefly diverted from his beloved's red hair (which actually looks a shade or two redder than it was just yesterday…) by what sounds almost like a body being slammed against a wall? Jackson would be worried, except he can hear Peter almost cackling from his spot in the kitchen, a sound that is followed by Malia's childish 'ew!' as she sits up, not too far from him.

"Seems like our alphas are getting a tad close and personal…" Peter drawls with obvious glee.

For a moment it seems like the sheriff might be about to spit his coffee… either that or choke on it. Though in the end all he does is swallow, close his eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh:

"I don't want to know, I really, really don't." He mutters.

Peter is surprisingly respectful of that choice and says nothing else, though Jackson's sure he's not the only one that can feel the tension mounting inside… like a cord about to snap or… something. It's something he cannot put into words, something's coming something huge, and so very, very important… a part of his mind does stop briefly to wonder at the sheriff's easy acceptance of everything. Well, he cannot know how easily he took to werewolves, magic and the supernatural of course, Jackson wasn't around for that. But the man just heard that his sixteen year old son is getting 'close and personal' with a twenty-something-man (twenty-two, three? Jackson cannot for the life of him remember Derek's exact age; then again, it's surprising enough that he remembers Stilinski's birthday but he does, he also remembers the boy having been moved a year ahead, a long while ago, until the death of his mother and so many missed classes made it necessary for him to repeat a year, thus ending in their class again… just like not many are aware of the fact that Lydia was moved ahead too, meaning she's actually younger than the rest of their generation) and has no reaction whatsoever to that particular tidbit of information. Is it the knowledge of the time-travel? He knows Stiles is, for all intents and purposes, older than sixteen, perhaps that helps. Then again, it might be something else entirely, and it's not like Jackson is about to ask.

Just when it feels like the tension is finally about to snap, everything changes abruptly, and in a most unexpected manner: with knocking on the front door. It actually takes Jackson a handful of seconds to fully comprehend what the sound even is. No one knocked on the Stilinskis' door, everyone just… let themselves in. And why shouldn't they? From the very first day the pack spent the night together, or more like the next morning, the Sheriff told them all to feel like they are at their homes, to act like it; they are free to come and go as they please. And Jackson knows he's not the only one who feels more at home right there than at his own (more like his parents', really) place.

Malia's unexpected hissing is indicative of how not-right it all is. Jackson's seriously wondering whether he should do something, disinclined as he is to move, much less wake-up Lydia when the fact that she hasn't woken up thus far shows how much she needs her sleep, he likes the idea of an enemy being at their door and her being unaware and unprepared even less.

And then Stiles is there, jeans low on his hip, belt undone, feet bare, no shirt on and hair still damp. Showing how quickly he had to have moved. He crosses the living room in a few quick steps and soon is opening the door: words slipping through clenched teeth:

"You are not welcome here… Deaton."

As if the word, the mere name were some kind of spell, Lydia's green eyes snap open and she sits up immediately. Jackson following her movement, unable to help himself. In seconds Lydia is on one knee, one hand holding her white blade, the other poised and almost glowing already. Jackson crouches beside her; he doesn't know what exactly is causing such a reaction in his mate, but in the end it doesn't matter, all she needs to do is say the word and he'll follow her.

"Ah Mr. Stilinski…" Deaton, for it is indeed him standing at the door, speaks in a genial, almost grandfatherly tone. "I would like to speak with Mr. Hale…"

"I told you, you're not welcome here." Stiles is practically speaking through clenched teeth.

Deaton tries to get past him anyway, only to find he cannot cross the threshold… that surprises the pseudo-druid, though he does his best to hide that fact.

"This is some interesting magic you have at work Mr. Stilinski." Deaton says, trying to sound kind and teacher-like. "Though I must warn you of the dangers of letting the wrong kind of individuals work magic in your home. It could put you, your father at risk. If you would let me Mr. Stilinski…"

"How many times must I repeat that you're not welcome here before it gets through your thick skull?" Stiles asks, he's gone past furious and into livid, practically vibrating with it, though at the same time, he's controlling his voice so completely, not raising it at all. "I don't trust you, and you think I'll let you do any kind of magic, that'll I'll let those I care for be at your mercy in any way, shape or form?"

"Mr. Stilinski…"

"Because of you Derek was almost killed!" Stiles loses his composure, just for a fraction of a second, but it is enough in the end. "I'll be damned before I allow you anywhere close to my family, my pack!"

"Your pack…?" Deaton echoes, until the answer occurs to him. "The Alpha-mate? That is a surprising turn of events indeed. I myself was emissary to the last Hale Alpha, Lady Talia and could be of great assistance…"

"The last Hale Alpha was Laura and you're the reason she's dead! I don't know why, I don't know how. But I wouldn't trust you, Alan Deaton, were you the last man on this world I could go to for help! Whatever words you might spin, whatever pretty lies you may try and tell, I know better. I know you, pseudo-druid…"

"Pseudo-druid! You offend me Mr. Stilinski…"

"Oh no! I haven't even begun to offend you!"

"You know, magic like the one done in this place. Wild without approval. The Council could be called on you and that would be most… regretful…"

"Please! As if I would be foolish or stupid enough to fall for such a lie."

"I say no lie…"

"Maybe not. But that doesn't mean what you say is true either. I know how people like you work, Deaton. The Magic Council exists, yes, but they're nothing by now. Their once great influence lost since the passing of the last of Emrys's line! Really, if they had any real power you would have been stripped of your powers years ago!" Stiles steps forward, threateningly. "Don't think me ignorant of the world I live in Alan Deaton. I know who and what I am, the truths and dangers that surround me and mine. I know you call yourself a druid, but all you really are is a leech, a parasite, seeking power that's never been meant for you. I know not if you were in any way connected with the cutting down of the Nemeton, though you certainly did your best to take advantage of it. Regardless of the consequences that might have brought on all of Beacon Hills. You've defiled a place where blood and tears were spilled, trying to steal from the dead and the grieving. You caused, either by your actions or your in-actions, the fall of one of the greatest packs in this Continent! And now you intend to do the same with those few left. Well, I will not allow it. I will protect this pack, from the Argents, from you, and from every single person and force that might wish them ill! By Selene this I swear…" He takes a deep breath, magic almost sparking at his fingertips. "On this day and in this hour I Mage Mieczyslaw Stilinski, declare you, Alan Deaton, in contempt of the Hale Pack, Magic and the Mother, they shall judge you, and may you beg mercy from them before the end. So I say, so mote it be!"

"So mote it be!" Lydia seconds almost automatically.

Stiles slams the door close before Deaton can say a single word, reinforcing the wards to have them expel him from the property entirely.

For several seconds no one really moves. Everyone just watches Stiles standing there, his body almost vibrating, though its nothing compared to the tattoos on his back, the way they both seem to almost ripple, as if about to shoot right off his skin…

"That was absolutely awesome!" Malia crows, jumping on her feet and running around excitedly. "So badass! You totally owned Deaton! And you didn't even need to fire a single spell!"

"That's not how it was supposed to be Malia." Stiles says calmly. "Much as I might hate him for what he's done, to my pack and… to everyone. I am not meant to be his judge and jury. All I could do was submit him before the judgment of those with the power to make justice."

"And you did that how?" His dad asks, confused.

"It's a piece of very old, almost forgotten magic." Stiles shrugs. "I used my magic to call on him, listing his crimes, and against whom those crimes were committed. Magic itself, and the Higher Powers will judge him accordingly. All I did was set things in motion. It's something anyone with enough power and the right reasons can do. Though you must beware, for if you try to cheat the Magic and the Mother, you shall be judged instead..." He exhales. "It's not something to be done lightly. I myself never planned it. Deaton has never been my priority, regardless of what he might have done in the past. From the moment I cut him off from accessing the power of the Nemeton he ceased being a true threat to me, to any of us. Of course the moment his actions put this pack in danger all bets were off…"

Every single member of said pack cannot help but shiver, not in dread but in delight in that moment. Stiles cuts such a fine picture… and it's not just how handsome and sexy he looks, or the power that seems to almost be forming a cloak all around him, it's the way he speaks, the way he stands, the way they all know without the smallest sliver of a doubt that every word he says is true. He will fight for them, he will protect them, they're safe with him… safety, true safety, can be such a hot commodity even at the best of times.

"What… what just happened here?" Derek's voice breaks the moment.

All eyes turn to him then, standing on the entrance to the living room, he's wearing jeans and a wife-beater (which was clearly thrown on rather hastily, judging by the way it's more than a little wrinkled and not settled right on his shoulders), no shoes; also, in his hand is another shirt, probably meant for Stiles.

"You… the way you spoke to Deaton," The more Derek speaks, the faster the words come, but there's no eagerness, instead the hint of something dark, something close to desperation… "You called yourself a mage and… you have the symbol of my pack tattooed on your back. What… Who are you really Stiles?"

Stiles half-flinched at the 'what', silently reminding himself that Derek had corrected himself mid-sentence, trying to believe it means things aren't as bad as they seem… no, but certainly more than bad enough…

"I am Mieczyslaw Stilinski, son of Noah Stilinski and Claudia Stilinski nee Wójcik, Mage and Guardian of the Beacon of Beacon Hills…" Stiles is completely honest with Derek, he can do and be nothing less. "I am what the Nemeton once was, until Gerard Argent, possibly with, possibly without the assistance of pseudo-druid Alan Deaton, poisoned it. As for why this was done… Gerard probably thought that doing it would erase the power in this area, but truth is that all along the Nemeton was but a conduit; it filtered the power, and while it certainly contained a lot, it wasn't the origin of it, that was the Mother. By which I mean Mother Earth. Druids and other supernaturals could pray to the Mother, with the Nemeton as conduit, it's why it was of such importance. Men like Gerard and Deaton… they've never understood it. One thought that he could steal the power from the Nemeton, like he would do so from another supernatural, but you cannot steal from the Mother. Gerard thought he could destroy it, and the same proved to be true. But their actions meant that for the longest time Beacon Hills was in flux, because a poisoned Nemeton could neither truly hold magic, nor filter it correctly anymore. So the task was given to me. Thus I am now the one who's connected to the Mother, I hold the power of this territory, and I balance it, though I am still not the Mother, just a conduit to her. Eventually, when the land is well and truly ready, a new Nemeton will take the place of the old one, and things will go back to being how they're supposed to be. Until then, I'll fulfill the task I've been entrusted with."

"Why you?"

Stiles has always known the time would come when the truth would have to come out. He long ago promised himself never to lie to those he loves, and that includes Derek. Doesn't mean he's ready for it, much as he might have tried to prepare for it, he doesn't think he could ever be prepared for it, but the time has come, and he really will not lie to Derek. So he waves with one hand for the side of the room where they've pushed the bigger of the couches, the two sit, angled towards each other, and Stiles begins talking:

He begins with a day when two boys, best-friends and almost-brothers found half a body in the woods, all through wolf-bites, insane Alphas, psychotic hunters, one cryptic useless druid, an Alpha pack, darach, the nogitsune, kitsunes, oni, and so much more, each tale seemingly worse than the last, ending with the three-fold sacrifice of the last members of the Hale pack at the Nemeton stump…

"Ideally, it should have been one of us." Stiles admits quietly. "It would have meant more power and we would have been able to go back further… but both Lyds and I knew one another enough to understand we would have never survived, alone. So we did it together. I… we were quite surprised to find ourselves as far back as we did. But we did our best with what we had. We set out to giving Peter a pack, found Malia and gave her the choice, and did our best to make sure that our pack would be safe, happy… of course things have happened we could have never planned for. Butterfly effect can be a bitch. But we've done our best." He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck almost nervously with a hand. "I wish we could have done something, anything for Laura, I really, really do…"

"She made her choice, trusted the wrong person." Derek admits quietly. "I almost did the same. Would have, had it not been for you."

He's long since offered Stiles his shirt, but the teen has yet to put it on. Not because he doesn't want to get dressed or anything; but because they're actually having a moment right now, and he feels like if he so much as looks away, that moment will be ruined.

"And… me?" Derek grimaces even as he asks the question, as if both wanting and not wanting an answer to it, all at the same time (Stiles completely understands).

"You chose not to be part of the ritual." Stiles does his best to keep his voice even, though its hard. "I… we understood it. You… the other Derek… he was tired. Too much had happened. He just wanted to rest. A part of us wanted the same of course, but it just didn't feel right. It felt like giving up, and we've never been very good at that. In the end y… he fought for us, to give us a chance to finish the ritual. The hunters found us halfway through and he kept them away from us until it was too late for the magic to be stopped. H… Y… He died just before the enchantment took hold and we were sent back."

He can taste it so clearly in that moment, the blood and tears in that one and only kiss. It was the barest brush of lips yet he'll never forget it, the ghost of a kiss that will haunt him for the rest of his life, the kiss he always dreamed of and never got to have… not on that life, yet now… Stiles is half lost in memory, of the other life, of less than an hour earlier, it takes him a moment to gather his wits and focus fully once again, and once he does he needs a few more seconds to fully register the words that just came out of Derek's mouth, which is why it takes him so long to react so long to them, though once he does… it's like the air has been punched clean out of him.

"Is that why… why you kissed me? Do you think… do you expect me to be him? The other Derek? Your Alpha? Your mate?"

Derek doesn't even know why he's asking all those questions. From the moment the very first one crossed his lips he knew they weren't right, on the contrary, they were wrong, so very wrong, but he just cannot help himself… He's not a good person, has never claimed to be so, but it goes beyond that too. The questions don't come from him being a bastard, but from being an insecure boy who already lost practically everything he loved once, the thought of letting himself have… anything, only to lose it later on, it terrifies him.

He's so lost in his own fear and doubt that he manages to miss entirely the moment everything changes. It happens in less than a second, nothing more than the blink of an eye, and everything has changed. Stiles, who just a heartbeat before was staring at him with such intensity, his eyes sparking and drawing him in like magnets, like the sun itself, with a gravitational force that far surpassed that of the Earth at his feet; so much that Derek's almost ready to forget everything and everyone around them and go back to holding onto him, to claiming that small, perfect mouth… and then the words come, and from one moment to the next the spark in the eyes is completely gone. Stiles stands stiffly, almost mechanically. He stumbles a bit to the side and when Derek goes to help him, the younger man flails so much in his hurry to stay away that he trips over his own feet several times before slamming against a chair. He's back fully on his feet almost as fast though, throwing his shirt finally over himself without seemingly really stopping to think about it and then he's walking away, saying something about a walk before moving past everyone and out of the house through the back-door, feet still bare.

Derek doesn't know what to do or what to say at all, the first person his eyes strays to though is Lydia, and she's staring at his with such darkness in her green eyes Derek can almost swear he can see death, his own, in them:

"You're an idiot." She states, completely matter-of-fact.

"I know." Derek exhales, mentally kicking himself for the insensitive words.

"No, you don't." Lydia's anger gives way to very deep sadness. "You really, really don't." She stops to think things over for a few seconds, eventually deciding they have nothing left to lose. "Stiles and the other Derek, lets call him our old Alpha, they were never mates. As for why? I cannot know for sure of course, but I think it was just never the right time. First Stiles was underage, something they were both painfully aware of… right now it's different because Stiles doesn't act like a teenager, and everyone reacts to that, treats him like he's actually older than he is physically. And it's not even just him but the both of us. Of course there were also all the things that kept being thrown at us, a new threat every other week. Stiles used to say that we were trapped in a Buffy season or something like that." She shakes her head at the memory. "Things got better for a while after the Anuk-Ite and the first defeat of Monroe and her men. We got to go to College, Stiles and I gave it a go at being a couple, realized we worked much better as friends and quasi-siblings. He got to be a fully-fledged FBI Agent for a little while… then, of course everything went to hell. By the time we were all back together again no one was thinking about love anymore. Surviving was all that really mattered."

Silence reigns, and for a moment Derek thinks that's it. He's not expecting it when Lydia begins to speak again, or what she says next:

"Our Old Alpha never trusted Stiles, not like you do." Lydia says it softly, almost too quietly, like it's a secret she's afraid others will find out, though she still wants him to hear. "Oh, he trusted Stiles to have his back in a fight, to keep guard when rest was absolutely necessary, to look after the pack. But He never trusted Stiles with his more vulnerable side, with what was truly in his mind, in his heart… you do. That's what makes Stiles look at you the way he does, and if you cannot see that…"

She doesn't finish the sentence, doesn't say 'then you don't deserve him', because truth is, Lydia is afraid. She knows Derek and Stiles fit together, like no other people ever have or ever will, they're a perfect match, and if they cannot make things work, what hope is there left for anyone else? Yet, if Derek cannot understand the difference between himself and his other timeline's counterpart, the reason why Stiles might always have been in love with him, but would have never been with the other Derek, not really, then there's nothing they can do. Stiles deserves to be loved, and he deserves to be loved for the right reason, for no other sake but that of love itself, and not because the person thinks of it as fate, duty, or worse, necessity.

**xXx**

Stiles doesn't know how long or how far he runs/walks exactly before he stops wanting to both flee and fight at the same time. It can get confusing, even inside his own head. His instincts as a Warrior Mage, as the one who fights back whenever something or someone provokes him, against those he has as a caretaker, the 'pack mom' as he knows some of the pups call him when they think he cannot hear (nevermind that he's not a woman, and they're not wolves, yet). The first half of him is offended by Derek's implication, wants to fight, to make him hurt as Stiles himself is hurting… but the later blanches at the mere thought of causing any pain at all to someone he cares so deeply for. And it's not even about being in-love with Derek, he could have no romantic feelings whatsoever for Derek Hale and still feel exactly the same. Because they're pack, and how can he possibly think, really think, about hurting pack?! He's not that kind of person, not that kind of Alpha!

Even after mostly calming down Stiles is in no hurry to return home. He knows the pack will be worried, but the mere thought of facing Derek… he feels the need to settle down more first. He needs to be fully at peace with himself if he's going to help lead the pack alongside Derek and not let his foolish little heart get in the way.

It takes several hours, but Stiles does manage to find his focus again. Derek was never the reason they traveled back in time anyway, he needs to go back to the real priorities. The next on the list are the Alpha Pack, the Darach and… Cora. Stiles knows Peter has been eagerly awaiting the chance to reunite with Cora, ever since waking up; the only reason he hasn't gone looking for her is because none of them have the slightest idea where to even begin. So after much failed planning Lydia pretty much smacked them in the back of their heads, pointing out how much easier it would be for them to simply wait. Cora would be coming straight to them sooner or later. Of course, Stiles would rather they find her before the Alpha Pack does, so he's been keeping a loose hold on the telluric currents, hoping to be able to sense Cora through them before she's intercepted (of course, if she's intercepted before getting close enough it will all be for naught… but there's only so much he can do on that front).

It seems almost like coincidence, or perhaps fate when, just as that thought is running through his mind, Stiles feels one of those very currents thrum… auras have just stepped into his territory, they're moving fast, in pursuit. Sensing that time will be of essence Stiles hurries to the closest current, stepping right onto it and letting himself fall into it… It's insane, traveling the currents, the ley-lines like that. A skill that very few individuals in history have ever possessed. He cannot say he's mastered it, then again, such a thing would be hard to do when there's no one to teach him and no way to learn other than, essentially, by doing. It's the closest to long-distance teleportation there is though, and when involved with beings who can move as fast as the wolves do, running isn't enough, and short-distance teleporting (like what he did to get Erica and Boyd our of the Argent basement) gets tiring fast. So he'll use his magic any way he can (and hope it'll be enough in the end). Almost as an afterthought, Stiles sends a mental call to Lydia, letting her know what's going on and where he's headed; depending on how many of the alphas are actually pursuing Cora, he might need help (who's he kidding? His luck being what it is they will all be pursuing Cora, and he's going to need a hell of a lot of help!).

When Stiles steps out of the ley lines he ends up doing so closer to the rushing wolves than he planned. Doesn't matter, he's always been good at thinking on his feet. The moment he's got solid ground under his feet again Stiles raises his head and howls… or at least, as much as a human can. And it's not just any howling either, it's a very specific tune, one he hopes Cora will be able to recognize, even if she hasn't been around for years. It's the 'Hale Call', the specific howl the Hale pack uses to call on one another. He hopes it'll allow Cora to trust him, at least long enough for him to be able to protect her.

It actually works, from one moment to the next Cora stops zig-zaging through the underbrush, instead heading straight for him. The moment she's passing his side Stiles raises one of his hands, the mountain ash shooting down the length of his arm, past his fingers, to float suspended in mid-air for a fraction of a second before falling again, forming a perfect circle around both himself and Cora. It gives them a few feet on any direction which, strictly speaking, isn't that much, but it doesn't need to be, the important part is that it won't let any wolves in. The effectiveness of his plan is tested and proven true just seconds later, when the twins try to rush him only to end up crashing against the barrier and flying back several feet (because it's his power behind the barrier, and he's long since decided that just stopping isn't enough, he also pushes back, and does so as viciously as he can, even with passive magic like a mountain ash circle).

"Well well, well, what have we here?" Deucalion himself steps forth, examining the barrier, and cocking his head at Stiles in such a way that it makes the time-traveler wonder how anyone buys the 'poor blind man' act.

"I am Mage Wójcik, Guardian of Beacon Hills and the Hale Pack, and you're infringing on mine and my pack's territory." Stiles stated evenly.

"Oh really, and who believes themselves with the right to hold this territory?" Decaulion asks, testily, it's clear he wasn't expecting to find Stiles there.

That part does make Stiles wonder actually. The last time around the Alpha Pack only made their appearance when Derek had already been Alpha for a few months, already had a pack, even if most were bitten wolves and all a hell of a mess. Still. Considering that Derek only 'ascended' earlier on that very day (just before sunrise, in fact), there's no way the Alpha Pack can know about it yet, so why then are they in Beacon Hills? (Stiles swears to himself that if its Deaton's fault he'll skin the man! Then again, Gerard could always be the reason, Duke certainly had it for the old bastard).

"Eh… you…" Cora mumbles, doing her best to stay on her guard, even against him.

Stiles aches inside. He's never seen Cora like that: so unsure, so vulnerable… it's not a good look for her. She's a Hale, she's meant to be strong, and powerful and vicious to all but the few who might earn her trust. Stiles hopes he can do that again.

"It's okay." He assures her. "I'm a friend of your brother, and your uncle."

"Oh… so there is a Hale Alpha again, how… interesting." Deucalion hisses. "And who might that be exactly?"

"You do realize that no matter how much you posture and threaten and whatever, there's nothing you can do to me, to us, right?" Stiles cannot help but ask, keeping his tone perfectly pleasant but with a threatening undertone as he adds, almost conversationally. "I mean, I'm not taking the barrier down. There's no way I'm letting you anywhere near me, or Cora. And however much power you might claim to posses, you cannot get past the mountain ash. Also, if you try to bring your Emissary here so they can do it, I'll destroy them."

"Well, it does seem like you have everything planned, little mage." Deucalion smirks at him. "But tell me, how are you planning on going anywhere? It's true I might not be able to get past your little circle, but I don't have to. All I need to do is wait you out. Sooner or later you'll try to move, and I'll get you then. Now tell me, who's your alpha?"

Stiles says nothing, doesn't even challenge Deucalion anymore, knows there's no point. The wolf is absolutely insane, arguing with him would be pointless. Also, as it happens, ignoring him seems to do far more to infuriate the mad wolf than anything Stiles might have said in the end.

"Tell me who's your alpha!" He practically roars in fury after a minute or two.

"That would be me." Derek announces as he steps out of some trees.

He's not alone, thankfully. Half-hidden in the trees Stiles can see Jackson, Lydia, Malia, Peter; and while he cannot see his dad, he's no doubt Noah is around, he's just not the kind of man to stand back and do nothing. That's something both Stilinski men have in common.

"Derek Hale, son of Talia Hale… who are you to try and claim the position of Alpha?" Kali scoffs, clearly not thinking much of Derek.

Cora bristles, but Stiles's hand on her arm settles her. They both know Derek needs to handle things himself; much as they both might be angered by such dismissive words, he's the Alpha and needs to stand his ground.

"I am indeed, Derek Hale son of Talia Hale, brother of Laura Hale, current Hale Alpha." Derek announces. "Beacon Hills is my territory and you're not welcome here. Now leave!"

"Make me, little boy…" Kali challenges with a toothy grin.

"Easy Kali," Deucalion calls. "If you end it too quickly, what fun will there be for the rest of us?"

"What do you propose then?" Ennis is very interested in anything that he may consider fun (which mostly for him means killing and destruction).

"A fight, champion vs. champion." Deucalion proposes eagerly. "On our side of course that would be Ennis."

Peter steps out of the trees before Derek can say a word on their side. Uncle and nephew look at each other in silence for a few seconds before Derek nods, stepping back and allowing Peter to come face to face with Ennis.

"But Ennis is an Alpha…" Cora murmurs, worriedly. "Uncle Peter is a Beta, isn't he?"

"He is." Stiles nodded. "But you must remember Cora, that we are a pack. Peter is pack, which means that he doesn't stand alone. Whatever he might be doing, whatever fight there might be, his pack is always with him. Always."

It's something they learned the first time around, pretty much by accident and almost too late. Malia and Peter had still been with them back then. Something had gone wrong, they were forced to split up and Malia ended surrounded by too many enemies, with the rest of them too far away to be of any assistance. But by then they'd been a pack already, or at least Derek, Stiles, Lydia, Noah, Peter and Malia had been; they had believed in each other and trusted one another completely. According to Malia, she found herself able to fight in ways she never had before, knowing things she never learned; she was also just a little bit faster, stronger, her mind working better… all skills she'd gotten thanks to the pack. Because the pack had been with her in mind and heart, even if not in body, and that was enough.

Much has changed, and thankfully, a lot of it for the better. Stiles has no doubt that if Malia could access that kind of power on accident, Peter certainly can do so at will. So he doesn't doubt Peter, instead he just believes, in his family, his pack.

They're all shocked when Peter's first punch is almost enough to take down Ennis. It certainly makes him stumble. Peter takes advantage of the surprise to bring out his claws and make four slashes on the Alpha's face, neck and chest; two of them them quite big and one deep enough it bleeds a lot and doesn't heal the way most expect it to.

"What the…?!" The twins are beyond flabbergasted. "But he's not an Alpha!"

"No." Derek agrees evenly. "But he's not alone either. You all might call yourself a pack, but that's not what you are. You have no pack. Are nothing more than omegas with the power of alphas. You think because you call yourself a pack that's what you are, but you don't even know what it means to be a pack. If you did you would know what's going on…"

"What can a bunch of bastard alphas who've killed their own betas, killed the very wolves who were supposed to be under their care, know about pack?" Stiles hisses dismissively.

It's what he always hated about the Alpha Pack, why he never agreed with Scott and Derek on forgiving Deucalion and letting him go. Doesn't matter that Duke helped them later, one good deed didn't erase decades of bad ones, all the packs he'd destroyed, starting with his own. And yes, his own pack had been wrong, trying to kill him, considering him weakened because of his blindness (yet again trouble that could be laid at Gerard's feet), but while Deucalion might have been in his right to deal with his own pack, that should have been the end of it. Instead he'd gone around destroying other packs, getting others to do the same thing to their own packs.

Peter has Ennis in the ground and is one, perhaps two attacks away from killing him, when Kali lets out an inhuman screech and leaps at the older Hale. Only for a bullet to hit her high on her chest, just bellow her collarbone, before she can so much as touch Peter.

All wolves present hiss at the smell of wolfsbane in the air, as Kali begins screeching like mad, clawing at her own chest though its useless, Noah's bullets are laced with the strongest wolfsbane Stiles has in his little herb-garden. She has but minutes.

"You have a hunter with you?!" Deucalion snarls in disbelief.

"I am no hunter, though I am human." Noah announces simply, stepping out of the shadows, his personal gun still raised and ready. "I am also pack, and ready to fight for it."

"Kill them!" Deucalion roars at the twins.

Lydia is on the move almost before they are. Even as they begin to combine, before their huge, grotesque, combined form can emerge, she's raising her hands and unleashing her wail. The behemoth alpha never finishes forming, instead Ethan and Aiden end up on the mossy floor, unconscious, with blood dripping down their noses and ears.

"I am the Alpha of Alphas!" Deucalion roars, beyond furious. "And I will not be taken down by a bunch of bitten children and unworthy mongrels. I am the Demon Wolf!"

Derek is on him before Deucalion can even think of attacking anyone at all. He might be a new alpha, he may only have three actual were-betas (Jackson, Peter and Malia), but he knows a pack is about more than that, and he certainly has a strong pack at his back.

Deucalion believes he's so great, but truth is he has no idea who he's gone up against. He still can hardly believe that his whole pack has been defeated. They're the best alphas he's been able to find in the last six years. Strong alphas, who killed their betas in order to become stronger. They have gone through the country, making a name for themselves, killing those who dare stand in their way, who dare oppose them. Always proven themselves to be the strongest. So how can a young upstart boy who was never meant to be an alpha, never trained for it, who cannot have been alpha for long (otherwise they'd have heard about it) how can he be standing up against him? And how can he be winning?!

Kali is dead, Ennis might as well be and the twins… Deucalion doesn't even know what the little redhead (the Banshee, she's a banshee, though Duke has no idea how that's possible either) did to them exactly. What he does know is that they're not alphas anymore, he can feel that much. That fact, the mere thought that this little pack, the remains of one of the greatest packs in the world and a bunch of bitten wolves may have someone capable of taking that away… it terrifies him like nothing ever has.

"Mercy!" He cries out. "Mercy Alpha Hale!"

Derek stops, his claws a hairsbreadth from Deucalion's neck.

"Leave my territory." He growls at the older alpha. "And don't you dare ever return."

He doesn't even wait for Deucalion's response, instead turning his back on the insane man and begins walking to where Peter is still standing guard over the half-dead Ennis.

It all happens from one moment to the next. Deucalion roars some insult at Derek, leaping at the younger alpha, only to find himself crashing against a mountain ash barrier.

"That was your last mistake." Stiles informs him evenly.

The last thing the self-proclaimed alpha of alphas sees is the reflection of the moonlight on the thin stiletto dagger, made of pure silver, that is shot straight at him, going straight in between his eyes and through his brain.

Derek blinks for a moment. He sensed Deucalion's attack coming, too late to do anything about it. Though at the same time, he was never afraid, he knew the pack had his back. He turned around just in time to see the circle Stiles had conjured to protect himself and Cora (his sister was right there! She was alive and standing right there!) move from its old spot to encircle Derek instead; almost at the same time Stiles drew a dagger and threw it straight at the old Alpha's head. Killing him instantly.

"What's that blade made of?" Malia asks, curiosity getting the better of her.

"Silver, pure silver, though enchanted to be as resistant as steel." Stiles answers as, with a flick of his hand, the dagger flies back to his hand.

"Noah…" Peter calls quietly.

Noah doesn't need Peter to say a word. He just walks to Peter's side silently before raising his gun and shooting Ennis dead. Truth was, Peter knows he could have done it, could have finished it. He would have gotten the power of an alpha, the one thing he's wanted more than anything for so long… it's not even that he doesn't want to be an alpha anymore, because a part of him still does, a part of him probably always will. But he knows now there are more important things in the world, like the pack. He's not ready to give up the pack. So he'd rather stay a Beta and have the pack, than be an alpha and lose it.

The moment he's sure it's all over, the enemies are down, the pack is safe, Derek allows himself to be selfish, just for a moment. Though the part that would surprise others the most would be perhaps the fact that he doesn't go to Cora, he goes to Stiles.

Stiles opens his mouth to say something (he's no idea what, actually) but before he can even fully formulate an idea, his mouth is too busy to say a word. Derek's taking his mouth, taking all of him, like he's a man lost in the desert, dying of thirst after being lost for three days… He kisses Stiles like he's the moon, like he'll die if he doesn't… and for a moment Stiles corresponds. He lets himself believe that everything's right in the world, that everything's perfect, that love really does trump all… until a traitorous corner of his mind whispers dark words inside him, reminds him of Derek's words back at the house:

"…  _do you expect me to be him?"_

Stiles pulls away. It almost pains him to do so, it feels like it might kill him to do so, and he can almost hear a whine coming from deep in Derek's throat even as he does. But Stiles has made up his mind. He will not stain the memory of what might have once been, he will not pull Derek into a relationship for the wrong reasons, he won't.

"No." He whispers, soft but firm.

"Stiles…" Derek doesn't understand, what's gone wrong now.

"I won't do this Derek." Stiles says quietly. "Not to you, and not to myself. This…" He exhales, the words burn him, like salt-water in his throat and his cracked lips, but he pushes them out anyway. "This is a mistake. I won't do this. Not to you, and not to me. We're co-alphas of the Hale Pack, partners, and hopefully friends. That's all. One day you'll find the right person to be your mate. Someone who will love you and whom you will love. Someone whose absolute care and devotion you will never doubt, not for a second." He doesn't say anything about himself, he's not that good a liar. "Now, go to your sister Derek. She came all this way just for you… and perhaps Peter. Go."

He doesn't even try smiling, that much is beyond even him. Instead he turns his attention to Lydia. Whose standing beside Jackson, looking at the unconscious twins.

"What are we going to do about them?" Jackson asks, distrustful.

"No idea." Stiles exhales.

He's absolutely exhausted. While he didn't do too much magic (mountain ash barriers are so basic he could have done them in his sleep, and they don't take that much energy), he's been moving since waking up, hasn't eaten a thing since the night before and he barely slept enough to mostly recover from the fight against Gerard. He really wasn't ready for the fight against the Alphas, and yet at the same time, it wasn't that hard… it actually makes him wonder. He knows he's stronger than he was the first time around, of course he is, but it cannot be just that. It makes him wonder if perhaps it was the unknown all along, that made them so vulnerable, so seemingly easy to kill, the first time around. In the other timeline, they hadn't known who the alphas were, what they were capable of, hadn't known what to expect (matter of fact, most of them hadn't even known anything was going on for months the first time around). It was the same with the Darach, and with almost every other enemy. They didn't know who their enemies were, what they could do, where to find them; and the unknown made the pack weaker, more vulnerable, while at the same time giving even more power to their enemies.

In sharp contrast. This time around they knew exactly who the alphas were, what they were capable of, knew their plans. There was no fear of the unknown, not for any of them. Even if the fight hadn't happened as it did, they would have been ready the next time. Thankfully that wouldn't be necessary. Deucalion, Ennis and Kali were dead, and the twins… he will let the others decide what to do with the twins. Stiles just doesn't think he can be objective about them. A part of him will always remember Ethan going to their aid when they needed it, will always feel bad about Aiden for what the nogitsune did; and that same part will also always remember that they were either directly or indirectly responsible for the deaths of both Erica and Boyd, they hurt Cora so much she refused to stay with them for long, they hurt Issac and tortured them all in many ways… so no, he cannot be objective about the twins. He'll let the others decide and accept their choice in the matter.

"Lets go home." He says simply.

He's just so tired… he wants the day to be over already.

"Stiles…" Lydia begins, a tad hesitant, she cannot help but take a glance at Derek.

"I just want to go home." Stiles doesn't beg, he won't… but it's a near thing.

"Lets go home kiddo." Noah nods immediately.

He too knows things haven't been truly settled between his son and Derek just yet. But they're both so stubborn… it's unlikely they'll settle matters any time soon. In the end, all he can do is be there for his son, and hope for the best. So that's what he'll do.

**xXx**

There are a lot of things Cora doesn't understand. That's not exactly a new thing, if she's honest with herself. It wasn't easy, being on her own after the loss of her family. She isn't sure she'd have survived, if those visiting wolves hadn't found her when they did, the little girl living on the streets in San Francisco… they gave her everything: food, clothes, a roof over her head, a pack… but she could never forget herself, could never forget that she was Cora Hale… and when the rumors finally reached South America, about a pack taking over Beacon Hills, the rumors of the Hale name being heard again…

She knows now things weren't that simple. The pack she first heard about wasn't really a pack, and the Hale the first rumors mentioned was actually Peter, not Derek. But those are minor details that don't matter in the grand scheme of things because there is a Hale Pack now, and a Hale Alpha. She has her family back… in her brother and her uncle, and a little cousin she hadn't known existed until recently (then again, no one knew she existed until recently). Their numbers might be low, but they won't be so for long, there are a bunch of teenagers ready and willing to receive the bite, young humans who understand what a gift the bite truly is, what pack is meant to be. She has no idea how that is possible, but it probably has something to do with him: the Mage: Stiles Stilinski.

That is perhaps the piece of the puzzle Cora understands the least. The boy is human, technically, he's also a very powerful mage; he calls himself the Pack Guardian, and is also one of their alphas. But, and this is the part that confuses her the most, he's not her brother's mate. They tried to explain it to her after the boy in question left for his room, after a long, hearty dinner.

"I don't understand." Cora tells Derek honestly. "I mean, he's your mate…"

"No, he's not." Cora doesn't understand why Derek keeps denying it!

"Yes, he is!" The she-wolf snaps. "I don't know what you think to achieve by your insistent denial Der, but you're mates. You're bound! How can you not see that?!"

"It's… it's not about me, it's about the Other Derek…"

Yes, they told her about the time-travel, but Cora doesn't understand how that's supposed to change anything. Like she said, there's a lot she doesn't understand, but really, it shouldn't be that complicated, should it?

Things get even more interesting when the redhead stalks straight o her brother, with the pace of a predator and the grace of some otherworldly creature, and then proceeds to slap him hard enough to turn his head around.

"I told you you're an idiot, and you understand nothing." She hisses at him, voice cold like ice… or like death.

"Lydia…" Derek begins, not quite knowing what to say.

"I've tried to understand you, to accept that you still have trouble seeing through things." Lydia tells him very evenly. "But the more you insist on your narrow-view of the world, the more that someone I love is hurt. Stiles is my brother. He is, besides Jackson, the person I love the most in the world. And you keep hurting him. Do you understand Derek, that if you were anyone else, I would kill you were you stand for daring to do that?"

"Then explain it to me Lydia. Explain it clearly because I just don't get it! You told me the Other Derek wasn't actually his mate, but he had to be, it's the only way there can be any bond between us when I know for a fact that we haven't mated."

"A bond like yours isn't a matter of bodies, it's a matter of the soul." Peter points out. "If Cora is right, and I myself don't doubt it for a second. You and Stiles are something quite rare and extraordinary. You're more than mates, you're a match, bound at your very souls, meant to be, no matter what. Some believe that all living creatures, humans and supernaturals alike, have perfect matches, but only a few selected individuals ever get to meet theirs. Meeting your match, getting the chance to love them and be loved by them… it's a gift, an extraordinary, precious gift that not many are worthy of. Of course, being a match is not a guarantee, is not a magical solution, you still have to fight to make things work; but it does mean that you're perfect for each other; that you could search the whole universe for the rest of eternity and never find another soul more suited to you. That's what you and Stiles are to each other."

"Something else you need to understand Derek is that it's not a matter of this or that version of anyone, it never was." Lydia finally decides to confess what she thinks is the most important piece of information. "Stiles and I… we did not jump back in time, did not send our minds or bodies or anything like that, back in time. We did not travel to an alternate reality or create an alternate timeline in order to change the past. We Shattered Time… we effectively destroyed the future that we knew, the world as we knew it to be here right now. Everything that the world had been from the moment we woke up in the past, to the moment we did the ritual was destroyed by that very ritual."

"Shattered Time…?!" Peter's white as a ghost. "But that's…"

"Forbidden magic? Yeah, we know." Lydia nods. "It's the kind of magic that the Mother would never allow… unless there was nothing else left. Time travel like most people understand it, like what is shown in the media… it's not possible. Paradoxes, and time loops and the rules of both science and magic; it just cannot be done. Not without destroying what was, and magic itself would never allow that, unless it were absolutely necessary."

"And it was, wasn't it?" Peter asks grimly.

"It was literally the end of the world." Lydia agrees. "Both Stiles and I have told you this. But I don't think any of you have really understood it…"

"Because we can't." Noah finishes for her. "Because we're, for the most part, simple people, small people in a small town. We cannot comprehend the idea of the world, of billions of lives, coming to an end."

"Indeed." Lydia agrees. "And truth is, we never wanted you to have understand it. It's why we never pressed on the matter. Why when you spoke of 'alternate selves', and 'other times' and pasts and futures, we let you. Because it was easier, for you, and for us. But now that mentality is hurting my brother, so if I have to force you all to face reality in order to make things better for Stiles, that's exactly what I'm going to do." She turns to face Derek straight on again. "There's no other you, no 'other' anything. You're Derek, he's Stiles, you're mates. You both know this, deep inside. But Stiles won't do anything about it, not again, not after what happened the last time… so it's all up to you."

Derek says nothing, he just spins around and practically stalks out of the room and straight for the stairs. Truth is that while he might not be ready to say it out loud, a part of him knew all along, the things Lydia just revealed. He knew, just didn't know how to put into words. And it's not even just about the dreams he's been having for years. Dreams that would terrify him and elate him in turns. He hated thinking of all the ways he failed, as a Hale, as an Alpha, as a wolf, as a brother… he hated thinking of all those who'd been hurt, who'd died because of him… yet at the same time he couldn't help the joy at knowing things could get better, and they would, that he would have a second chance at a family. It bothered him, looking at Laura through eyes and a mind that knew what it was like to be an alpha; look at her and see all the things she'd done wrong, all the ways she failed Uncle Peter, Derek, the memory of their pack and even herself. It's not like he'd been any better the first time around; but he'd learned, even if not in time for Erica and Boyd to be saved, he did learn… Laura never did, a part of Derek feels like she never even tried. The one time he even suggested that she could be better she nearly bit his head off! Derek loved his sister, but he's not blind to her faults, or his own.

Though perhaps the greatest joy those dreams ever brought him concerned one Stiles Stilinski. He loved going to sleep and dreaming about him, even before he began to so much as suspect that the boy might be real, that he might meet him one day. Derek couldn't help but love seeing him in his dreams, Stiles was such a beautiful boy, and not just physically; his huge golden heart, his quick clever mind, the strength of his will… all those were things Derek loved about Stiles. He hadn't understood, during those dreams, what exactly he might have ever done right to deserve the trust and the love of someone like Stiles Stilinski, yet he promised himself to never stop trying to be worthy of it… and in that too he failed. He won't be failing again.

**xXx**

When Stiles wakes up he feels relaxed, comfortable, warm and safe… that tells him immediately something's wrong (and how fucked up is his life that feeling good is for him a sign of something being wrong?!). A part of him wants so much to remain in that happy cocoon that it actually takes some effort for him to really wake up, there is a part of him that just doesn't want to give up whatever is making him feel so nice… when he finally pushes the drowsiness away he begins noticing things: like the big, strong, warm body curled up around his back, the arm slung around his waist, holding him tight, the hand pressed against his chest, right above his heart, or the legs entwined with his…

There is a part of Stiles, the core of his heart and soul that wants to cry, wants to moan Derek's name and bury himself tighter against him; wants to turn around and press his face into the were's neck, breathe in his scent, hear his heartbeat under his ear, lose himself in the one man he's loved in his whole life (or lives)… but he cannot.

Stiles exhales, fighting all his desires to do the last thing he truly wants: move away.

"No…" Derek grumbles, tightening his hold on Stiles, refusing to let him go.

"Let go Derek." Stiles hisses, trying to push his arm away, though it doesn't work (or perhaps he's not trying that hard…). "This is a mistake."

"No." Derek shakes his head emphatically. "The only mistake was ever letting you go. Letting you walk away from me. I may not be intelligent enough not to make mistakes, but I'm certainly enough not to make the same ones twice. I'm never letting you go again Stiles."

"Der…"

"No! I don't care about times, present, past or future change nothing. You're my mate today, like you were my mate yesterday, like you will be my mate tomorrow, and for as long as you may allow me at your side and in your heart."

The moment the scent of salt water, of tears, hits his nose, Derek reacts, spinning Stiles around in his arms. He has no idea what could have possibly happened, what has he done wrong this time?!And yet, he cannot smell sadness, so it cannot be all bad, right?

"Sti…" He doesn't get to even finish the word, before Stiles is throwing himself at him, claiming his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss.

"Forever." Stiles gasps as they're forced to part for oxygen. "How does forever sound to you?"

Derek's smile is so big he's sure it won't fit in his face. He takes a moment to kiss his mate (Stiles is his mate!) again, just for a moment, before burying his face into the boy's neck, taking in his scent, the scent of the both of them together:

"It sounds perfect to me."

And it is. Absolutely perfect.

It's impossible to know for sure what the future might bring. So much they've seen, and done and changed. But it will be alright, as long as they face it together, everything will be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> So... too crazy or just crazy enough for you all?
> 
> From the moment I began writing Time River I knew I wanted to do something different than everyone else. It's not that I don't love the fics where our boys go back together and are mates from the beginning, or just one of them is but they still get together right away. But I wanted to spice things up a bit. I'm sorry if things got a bit confusing with the whole other world/no other world, but that's how my muse wanted to play it in the end. Also, I wanted Derek to know some things, not everything. While he was there for the ritual, and ended up involved, there was no intention, so the magic didn't treat him the same as Stiles and Lydia, which is why he knows some things, but not others. To him the other future is like a very long dream, he's seen the things but doesn't have the same connection to the events, the same feelings and everything else, that Stiles and Lydia do. Which is why his reactions differed. I hope you liked it.
> 
> When I began this fic there were three things I had in mind: Stiles as a BAMF human-alpha of sorts, forming the pack himself even before the wolves came into the picture; Peter waking up sane and with a new pack; and that scene with the pack standing against the hunters, Scott and Stiles on opposite sides. Everything else was built around those three points. It took me a lot of time to decide who to pair Lydia with, as the whole 'power of love' shtick loses its intensity when you consider Jackson walked away from her less than three months later (yeah, that was the actor's fault rather than the writer's or character's, but still). But Aiden was no way, and while I considered using someone like Jordan Parrish... in the end none of them fit. And then I was playing solitaire while listening to one of my favorite TW podfics and there was this moment when they said spoke about Lydia holding out that key, kanima-Jackson stopping in his tracks, letting Derek and Peter kill him, and then coming back as a wolf; and how it was all because of her love... and I knew it had to be Jackson. Then there was the Sheriff. I've seen some fics where he's like... a completely absent parent, like, he's never there, kind of like in seasons 1 and 2 (and I've always been so sure that he was so stressed out he pretended to believe every lie because it was easier and he was terrified of accepting any other possibility). But then I remembered one of the few episodes I've watched of the later seasons. Where almost everyone's forgotten Stiles and the Sheriff is trying so hard... and I wanted to do justice to that version of him. Malia being like a sister just fit (I never liked her and Stiles together as a couple, and Scott doesn't deserve her). I've never liked Deaton, and the thing with the hunters was a given.
> 
> Now, I have no plans to bring up anything from the other seasons, not really. I considered it, but I've hardly watched any of it. And most can be stopped so easily (they stopped the nogitsune from the very first day) so I saw no point. So, in many ways, this is an end. The next piece will be wrapping some things up and... and there'll be a surprise to all of you. You can guess, but unless someone tells me and is right in more than fifty percent, I'm not telling!
> 
> Also, I'm offering right now, if the response to this piece manages to surpass the previous ones I'd be willing to post the finale a week early (meaning in a week, instead of two). If not, it'll still be up in two weeks. And by 'surpass the previous ones' I don't mean necessarily in number. I'd love for people to leave review/comment and really tell me what you all think of the chapter, and the story in general. What you've liked, what you've disliked, what you would like to see, wish I'd done... and perhaps make your guesses on what's coming in the final part.
> 
> So... hope you liked this and see you soon!


End file.
